A/N: It's funny what comes out when you sit down and just start writing. I had no direction for this when I started, and I still don't know how it ends. Perhaps I will produce a sequel if this finds a favorable response. Please forgive the poor punctuation. The app refuses to allow proper paragraphs. Enjoy!

WARNING: Description of drowning.

I find it curious, my end. All the chances fate has granted unto death, innumerable instances in which my life teetered on the edge of a knife, and this is how it shall at last lay claim to me. Surely, I have pondered the manner of my death before. Many times. My life, after all, has been so well acquainted with death that I am more familiar with the sounds of battle than the sounds of my own children at play. But I had never considered this.

My leg is wedged quite firmly between two large and immovable rocks. Even if I could gain purchase with my free leg, the incredible rush of the river prevents me from rising to the surface for breath. Lydia is locked in combat against the bandit chieftain, and is most certainly unable to reach me, if she is even aware of my plight. The desperate pounding is my own heart. My lungs are burning. It is all I can do to keep from gasping. From screaming. Darkness is filling my vision, and still I am fighting, straining. The river overcomes me. I have overcome gods through my strength and will. But I cannot overcome my mortality.

Instinct takes over, conscious will defeated by my body. I gasp. Water fills my lungs, and I am truly drowning.